


Hide and Explode

by guileheroine



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Intimacy, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/pseuds/guileheroine
Summary: In the middle of a party game, Zuko wrestles with his feelings about Aang and their time together in Republic City.
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	Hide and Explode

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for a Zukaang zine by @gemmica (on tumblr)

“And then I said - I actually said - _stay flamin’!_ ”

The party roared and Aang slapped his knee, eyes twinkling, before lifting his chin to knock back more of the _A.G. 16_ vintage one of the clerks they frequently worked with had brought him earlier. _Almost as old as I am!_ he had quipped when receiving it, beaming and bending — as he often did, because he was _tall_ now — to give her a warm squeeze. 

Zuko marveled at how all of them were laughing _with_ , not at him, despite the fact that Aang was regaling them with his own absolutely excruciating foibles. It was like things that should have been mortifying for anybody else just rolled off him. Avatar privileges, he’d probably grin, if Zuko brought it up, though Zuko was certain it was just an Aang privilege, and one that he couldn’t help but begrudge sometimes. In any case, the group here all found Aang’s tale of that one time he infiltrated a Fire Nation school and taught them the meaning of freedom _boundlessly_ entertaining. It was a party with several Fire Nation delegates, and almost no one that wasn’t considerably familiar with their culture. He supposed the story had special resonance for this team, mired as they had been for years in cultural transition politics and wrestling with the legacy of the Fire Nation. Zuko had heard the whole story before, of course, so his laughter lacked the fresh delight of the others’. But he couldn’t pretend it had lost much of its charm even now.

Aang’s twentieth birthday party was being held in the reception rooms of the Republic City hotel they were staying in. Zuko wondered when, if ever, there would be a time where they didn’t find themselves here every few months, sorting out the newest hurdle in the establishment of their new world order, as Toph darkly called it. Granted, it had been some ten months since the last time they were here — a record. In that time, the modest guesthouse that they usually rented had been swallowed up by some of the city’s new residential developments. This hotel here was far better suited to hosting a gathering of twenty-odd people, but it still had the cozy yet lively ambience that Zuko and Aang both appreciated. 

Though perhaps not tonight. The chatter rose quickly whenever Aang let a lull fall, bright eyes all around and sudden howls of laughter that chafed at Zuko’s temper more than they should have. It could have been the whiskey not agreeing with him, but Zuko found himself increasingly drawn to the door, to the stairway beyond, to bed. He hated that their time here was almost up, and the fact nagged at him — at his patience, his spirits, his conscience, more than he told himself it had any right to. And he never felt worse than when he caught Aang’s sunrise smile, which came all too easy tonight. It shouldn’t really have mattered. They had a little getaway planned with Sokka, Katara and Toph (and Suki, if she could make it) just next week, which Zuko was certainly looking forward to... But this was their last night together, just the two of them.

Somewhere out of Zuko’s line of sight, somebody piped up, “Hey! Let’s play a game!” 

Murmurs of enthusiastic agreement went up around the group. Somebody whooped, and someone else exclaimed — in a tone that didn’t tell Zuko whether it was a serious suggestion or not — “Let’s play hide and explode!”

There were a few sardonic groans. Zuko, for his part, groaned inwardly, completely in earnest. Hide and explode was the stupid Fire Nation game that Aang had played with the pupils in his undercover story. It was a kids’ game. Was this guy serious?

But Aang took up the suggestion, and a spoon to his glass, almost immediately. “Perfect! Come on, everyone,” he said, dinging for attention. “Let’s play hide and explode! There’s no one else here to disturb this time of year, and I’m sure the manager won’t mind if I slip him a tip before we go tomorrow.” He winked. 

As everyone stretched and made to stand, one by one, Bao, one of the advisers from Ba Sing Se, called out, “Wait, who’s going to be the seeker? We need a firebender, don’t we — what about you, Your Highness?”

Zuko had told him before there was no need to call him that, but now he shrugged evasively. “I don’t— “ He mumbled, looking for the easiest out, and then raised his voice a little to make himself clear, “I, uh, I’ve never played hide and explode.”

“You’ve never played hide and explode?” All of Aang’s attention turned to him like a ray, while a couple of other disbelieving whistles sounded around them. 

“I, uh, don’t like the explosions...” Zuko continued, trying not to trip over his tongue.

Aang didn’t take any pains to hide the skepticism on his face, but he still tried to take Zuko’s words in stride. “Oh, okay, um… Look, why don’t you stick with me for this round until you get used to it, huh? Come on, Zuko.”

Zuko didn’t know what else to do but take the arm he offered, and truth be told, he didn’t really want to blow Aang off. Explaining himself was more trouble than it was worth, and it would put a damper on Aang’s night, too. He stood to attention while someone sped through the rules a little drunkenly, and then, once one of their firebending colleagues had been appointed the seeker, he let himself be led.

Minutes later, Aang and Zuko were crouched into a tiny closet at the end of one of the public verandas. By the dank smell of it, this was a cleaning closet.

“You remember the rules, right?” Aang gave a short cough, like he was trying to hold his breath, before speaking. “Not sure Linh gave the clearest explanation back there, she was the first to get on the wine.”

Zuko sniffed. “So everyone hides and when the seeker finds them, they have to make an explosion with firebending, right?” He had, of course, played the game in his childhood with Azula and her friends. But not often, and he never really enjoyed it when he did.

“Right,” Aang coughed again. “The explosion alerts everyone else hiding nearby, so they can disperse and hide better if they think they need to. There’s strategy, y’know.” The last person to be found won. Zuko nodded.

They stood close together, alert. Aang’s chest rose and fell evenly as Zuko watched. He was wearing the ivory pendant Katara and Sokka had sent him for his birthday. It lay over the tunic Zuko had ironed for him this very morning, for the last time. 

He’d told the maids it was easier for him to do with firebending than it was for them to go to the trouble of heating the iron up. Zuko had never been one for domestic chores but he reveled in every feature of the morning routine he and Aang had made for themselves here. They would get up to have tea on the dusty roof adjoining their two rooms, meeting in the middle. Then they would stretch, the autumn dawn glowing like a halo on Aang’s head and over his bare torso. Sometimes he smiled when he meditated, his eyes closed, and in those moments Zuko drank him in like an oasis. Afterwards, Zuko ironed while Aang tended to Appa, before they went down to breakfast together, ready to face the day. It was mundane, but the kind of mundane that made you blind to how much you cherished it. Until it was gone.

“Hey, Aang,” Zuko blurted suddenly. “Let’s - it stinks here, let’s hide somewhere else.”

Aang nodded so vigorously that it should have made him dizzy. They crept out and slid into a fortuitously placed alcove behind it, out of view, but open to the cool evening air. It was empty save for a wicker broom gathering dust in the corner.

“Much better.”

“ _Much_ better.” 

After a moment, Aang slumped down against the wall. Zuko followed suit. The fresh air helped his stomach, but his heart was still uneasy with that unplaceable anxiety. Every time he looked at Aang, he felt their impending departure closing on him like a trap.

“Is Appa all ready for tomorrow?” he said, with an exhale that he tried to make as inconspicuous as possible. Just speaking was a fine distraction. In truth, he still had no idea what making Appa ready for travel even involved. 

“Oh, yeah. I deep cleaned his saddle this afternoon.” 

A minute or so passed, then Aang’s head flopped onto Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko startled, before schooling his breath. Aang’s neck had to bend quite a bit to fit into Zuko’s shoulder now, but it was such a practised move that the effort didn’t seem to register to him.

“I’m gonna miss you, Zuko.” 

From the corner of his eye, Zuko could see that he was pouting a little. “You say that every time.”

“That doesn’t make it less true,” Aang said, perplexed for half a moment before he shrugged it off. “Besides, I feel like we aren’t gonna be back here for a long time this time.”

“Yeah,” Zuko all but whispered. That was really what lay heavy so on him — why he felt like he was running out of time. He stared ahead. “Well, I mean… we’ll hang out next week,” he offered, feeling a strange instinct to draw away from the subject now that Aang was the one broaching it.

“I mean just the two of us. It’s... different with everyone else there, you know?” 

The questioning lilt of his words hung in the air. In the end, it was Aang who spoke again. “I like it here with you. I feel like we have a good thing going. And I hate that I never get to see you out of those stupid Fire Lord robes if I visit you back in the capitol. Now, I’m not saying I wanna see you out of your robes, Zuko, but it’s never really been a problem for either of us when I do. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He was being irreverent on purpose, but Zuko’s heart pattered even as his irritation flared. He saw from the corner of his eye that — wait, was Aang _blushing?_ Maybe it was just the sunset. It definitely made for an interesting atmosphere up here.

Zuko was at a loss, which wasn’t unusual. But Aang was behaving a little strangely too, so he seized the moment. “Aang, I need to talk to you about something…” He was on tenterhooks beside him, it was probably plain from the tension in his body. Aang noticed, he raised a forearm as if to reach out. But before he could do anything with it, there was a _boom!_

The muffled explosion rang out from some way beyond the courtyard behind them. Aang’s head sprang from Zuko’s shoulder and the moment dissipated. 

Aang sounded almost sheepish. “Whew! Should we move? What do you think?” 

It was hard to tell what triggered Zuko’s heartbeat now. “No,” he said quickly, getting the word out before he second guessed himself. He cringed — it was painful, he knew it’d be, but Aang’s gaze meeting his was knowing, open, almost like a wound. And Zuko needed to dress it for both their sakes. “I - I like it here, and I wanna talk to you. They’re not gonna find us till they climb a couple of storeys anyway.” 

“Okay,” Aang said. It was a cryptic okay. Zuko would need a moment to know how to proceed.

But he didn’t proceed, because the _boom!_ that followed — thunderous and so _close_ — shocked them both out of their moods, shrieking.

“ _Aw, what?!_ ”

“ _How did they—_ ”

There wasn’t time to waste. Aang sprang onto the parapet. It was simple enough to propel himself up over the next ledge using airbending. It was less pleasant for them both when he did it to Zuko, but nothing he wasn’t used to. And then there they were —

On their roof. 

Except this time they had to hide. The doors to their suites were locked from the inside, but under the awning of one wall, which overhung a narrow sliver of roof, there was a nook that looked like it’d provide shelter from scrying eyes. They tucked themselves in, between the wall and the rail, not much more than an arm’s width of corrugated tin above them. Chest to chest, there was barely enough space between them for Zuko’s breath, shallow with adrenaline. 

He tried to keep his eyes from meeting Aang’s, but the only other places for them to go were also various parts of Aang. When did he get so broad? 

“Aang, if the coast is still clear in a minute or two, we should try and get somewhere with more space,” Zuko whispered in a rush, for his own sake.

“Sure thing, Hotman.” Aang shoved his chest lightly. It was only then that Zuko noticed that Aang’s hand was indeed caught between them, so intent had he been to keep the sensation of him at bay. 

The hand stayed there. There wasn’t really anywhere else for it to go. Their breaths mingled. And when they bowed their heads to avert their gazes, it only helped their foreheads to veer dangerously close to one another.

The hand on Zuko’s chest twitched reluctantly, like it was sweaty. Or itching. Zuko forced his heart back down his throat. Repeatedly, trying desperately not to focus on the hand that was too heavy and too light at once.

_Boom!_

That one was pretty loud, but definitely farther out. Aang’s fingers curled in Zuko’s shirt as it hit, his shoulder curving instinctively as if to shield Zuko from the invisible blast. Zuko’s composure nearly crumbled.

“Zuko—”

“ _What_ , Aang?” 

When he finally met his eyes, they were wide and glossy. “Zuko, your heart is beating really hard. I thought you were just being a wet blanket when you said you didn’t like explosions, but if it’s _actually_ affecting you, I swear you don’t have to be embarrassed —”

Zuko blinked. “Yeah, Aang, it’s the explosions.” He sounded exhausted to his own ears. 

Aang’s expression fell in knowing sympathy. Zuko fell against his chest, trusting this ruse to cover for him just this once. When he did so, the hand on his chest slipped around to his back and rubbed comfortingly. It helped a lot, more than Zuko could have anticipated. Not with the explosions, obviously, but with his... dilemma. It was hard to imagine that Aang — however he _actually_ felt — would treat Zuko’s whole thing with anything but the utmost consideration. Here he was cooing over him like a baby because he thought Zuko was scared of an explosion quieter than the volcanoes he’d made in geology class, for crying out loud.

Eventually, Aang said, “Hey, what were you going to say back on the veranda?”

Zuko was about to say _nothing_ but he stopped himself. 

“It can wait until tomorrow. Promise I’ll tell you.” 


End file.
